The Secret Life of a Funny Girl Read Free Page A

for some reason this makes me feel better.
    â€œMaureen, you’re home!” I just stand there and let Aunt Kay hug me tightly, fold me into her perfumed softness. “Isn’t it just awful about Gran? I can hardly believe it myself.”
    â€œWhat happened?” I ask, and I really don’t want this hug to stop. It’s funny, but our family is not much for hugs. We kind of keep our feelings to ourselves for the most part. And this is the second big hug I’ve had so far today. Which says everything, as far as I’m concerned.
    â€œThe doctor says it was a massive heart attack.” Aunt Kay pulls away now, nods me to sit down, so I do. “He said she was dead before she even hit the floor. None of us knew there was anything wrong with her heart. I doubt she knew herself. Sometimes these things just happen.”
    â€œPoor Gran—I can’t believe it’s true.” I shake my head slowly. “So where’s Mom?” I ask, like I don’t know anything. Then I watch the two of them.
    Aunt Grace’s eyes flick toward her sister and the cigarette sits motionless between her fingers. This one’s for Aunt Kay, who’s much better at tricky situations. But then, she’s the clear boss of the family and used to taking charge. Her hand is steady as she pours steaming water from the kettle into Mom’s pink flowered teapot, her voice firm and even. “She’s resting right now, Maureen. In her bedroom. Your mother’s had a terrible shock, as you can imagine. Dr. Sullivan came by and gave her something to help her sleep.”
    I nod silently. A terrible shock. Aunt Kay stirs the tea in the pot, slips a tea cozy over it. Every movement is controlled; she carries herself like a queen. She even looks like one with her auburn hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head. Aunt Kay always wears her hair like this—I can never remember seeing it any other way. She always wears dresses, never pants. “Trousers are for men,” she says, which makes me laugh inside. I mean, it is 1971 not 1935, and who still calls them “trousers,” anyway? But hey, that’s Aunt Kay. She used to be principal of a small school around the bay, which is how she got so good at telling people what to do. Then she met Uncle Charlie and they got married and moved back to town. Now they have twin boys, Billy and Bobby, who are probably the only two people in the family who pay no attention at all to Aunt Kay.
    â€œWe have to be strong now, Maureen. That’s what Gran would want.” This from Aunt Grace as she butts out her cigarette in an ashtray piled high with ashes. So disgusting, does she have to smoke in our kitchen? Aunt Grace is totally different from Aunt Kay; you’d never say they were sisters. She’s short and round, with absolutely no sense of style. Today she’s got on an orange and purple polyester blouse that’s too big at the shoulders and too small across her chest. Her hair is short and brown, and underneath, small green eyes dart back and forth watching everything. Apparently, we have to be careful what we say when Aunt Grace is around—she repeats it all. “If you want your story broadcast over VOCM,” Dad said once, “make sure Grace is in the room when you tell it.” Anyway, we really don’t see much of Aunt Grace because she works full-time as a secretary somewhere. She even went back to work after her baby girl was born, which put the whole family into a state of shock. The only one happy with the plan seemed to be Lloyd, her husband. “He’s just thinking about the extra money,” Gran had sniffed at the time. “Imagine leaving your child with a stranger.”
    â€œI want to see Mom.” My chin goes up and I eye them both, watch them exchange worried glances.
    Why is it everyone always protects Mom? I mean, Dad speaks softly to her all the time and she never makes a single